


How to Parent A Teenage Dragonborn: A Post-Trauma Memoir and All-Purpose Guide by General Tullius

by Faisalliot



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, GET UR KAIDAN CONTENT HERE! FRESH KAIDAN CONTENT FOR SALE, Gen, If you have ever wanted General Tullius to be your actual dad, Kaidan is ridiculously cute here, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Sarcastic Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, This is really for my own amusement, this is the FUCKING FIC FOR YOU BRO
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:13:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29697627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faisalliot/pseuds/Faisalliot
Summary: Have you ever wanted General Tullius to be your actual dad?Have you ever wanted the Dragonborn to be the literal most poorly behaved teenager alive?Do you crave that sweet, sweet Kaidan content?Do you just like to watch people suffer?LOOK NO FURTHER. THIS IS THE FIC FOR YOU.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Tullius, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Kaidan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	How to Parent A Teenage Dragonborn: A Post-Trauma Memoir and All-Purpose Guide by General Tullius

**Author's Note:**

> Imperials have last names. Tullius in an Imperial. I assume Generals operate with their last names. So I made up a random name for Tullius. Motherfucker is called Agravius

**“How to Parent A Teenage Dragonborn: A Post-Trauma Memoir and an All-Purpose Guide by General Tullius”**

General Tullius, known as Agravius to his friends, General to his soldiers, Grandpa to his grandkids, Dad to his daughter on a good day and Dickhead on a bad one, sat at the desk in the loft of his daughter’s house and pressed the feather of the quill on his chin, considering the sentence he’d just scrawled on the parchment in front of him. From behind him, his daughter worked away at her alchemy table, the pestle in the hand he knew was riddled with potion pock-marks and scars insistently going  _ tap-tap-tap _ into her mortar as she ground gods-knew-what into a paste. He didn’t know what it was; it smelled earthy. Vaguely like nightshade, though he couldn’t be sure. 

“Andromeda,” He muttered, intending to ask a question but stopping to listen as the tiny feet of his granddaughter slapped on the floor as she came banging inside the house, prompting his son in law, who’d just been meticulously sweeping the floor, to bat at her shins as she tracked dirt right back inside. 

She shrieked downstairs, making a break for the basement and he watched, faintly amused, as she lifted the door covering the later and went whipping in home-free, gone as soon as she’d come. He watched poor Kaidan’s shoulders slump, head swiveling to look at the dirt his daughter left in her wake, and shot a despairing look upstairs. Agravius could see the melodrama approaching from a mile away. 

_ “Andromeda.”  _ Sure enough, there was a distinct complaint in Kaidan’s tone and Agravius suppressed a smile, his minute laugh only visible in the slight shake of his shoulders. 

The pestle stopped tapping, and he heard his daughter’s feet scrape on the hardwood floor as she approached the banister and leaned over it, looking at the ground floor and seemingly taking stock of the dirt strewn across it. 

“Weren’t you supposed to be sweeping?” She said, a note of mirth in her voice, and Kaidan scowled. 

“I  _ did,  _ and I was just finished until your daughter came booming in. Go get her.” 

_ “Our _ daughter, dickhead.” Andy said, shaking her head. “Take ownership for your part of the jackassery in her blood. And why don’t you? You’re not making a poison right now.”

Oh, so that’s what she’d been up to at the alchemy station. 

“She listens to you better.”

Agravius more heard than saw his daughter roll her eyes, judging by the way she sighed and leaned her forearms and upper half on the banister. “Perhaps that’s because I don’t sneak her taffy and honey nut treats before bed when she’s told she can’t have them until the morning.”

Kaidan looked distinctly guilty. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He muttered, letting the broom fall to the ground with a clatter. “Whatever. Just make Edel clean up the dirt this time—I, er...need to go bother Klimmek for more fishing lines. He owes me for the eggs we gave him the other day.”

And then, with his ears burning red, Kaidan grabbed his bow and beat a hasty retreat outside, leaving the broom abandoned on the ground. Andromeda laughed quietly, shaking her head as she made for the stairs, padding towards the basement. Agravius heard her exchange some stern but not unkind words with her daughter, (“Edelweiss, I  _ will _ tell Alesan not to take you out to Whiterun next week if you don’t suck it up and clean up that mess you made up there. I’m raising a girl, not a layabout. You can go right back to your dolls once the dirt  _ you _ put on the floor is swept up.”) and, as his grumbling granddaughter came stalking up and out of the basement and took care of the dirt, Agravius finally saw it fit to attempt to speak to Andromeda once more. 

“Andromeda.”

A beat of silence, and then, “Yes, dad?”

“I’ve got the parchment in front of me, and I’ve no idea where to begin with this book.”

“Book?” She said, and he heard her come up behind him and peer over his shoulder. Her breath blew on the back of his ear and he twitched. She laughed, sending a gust of wind across his cheek, and he could smell ozone. “You’re not  _ really _ writing that—I thought you were joking.”

“Aren’t you the one who always accuses me of not having an ounce of jest?” Agravius grouched, not putting any heat behind his words. 

“Right, right...and here I was, thinking you’d finally grown some semblance of a sense of humor in your old age. My mistake.” Andromeda said, and her hair brushed his shoulder as she shook her head. “Well, I dunno.  _ You’re _ the sorry fool who took me in. What do  _ you _ think you ought to start with?”

“I don’t know, which is why I was asking  _ you.  _ I thought you might have an idea.” __

“We have an alarming tendency to think the other is handling the thing that needs doing.” Andromeda said vaguely, and Agravius narrowed his eyes when he remembered, unbidden, the complete embarrassment of what had happened with Ulfric and Helgen all those years ago. “Why don’t you start off funny? Something stupid, like, ‘Step One: Do not, under any circumstances, adopt a Dragonborn.’ and then immediately pan to Step Two...er, ‘if you’re an idiot and intend to fail step one, attend a court trial and find them there.’”

Agravius leaned back in his chair, considering. “That might not be such a bad idea.” He muttered, and he locked eyes with his granddaughter, Edel, who looked curious. 

“Mum’s adopted?” She said, looking blessedly confused, and Agravius jolted. 

He turned and looked at his daughter, wide-eyed, and saw her in much the same state. 

Er.

“Step Three—don’t let her say things without thinking.” Andromeda said tightly, pressing her lips in a line in a rare show of embarrassment. 

“Mum?”

“Let’s start with Step Two, shall we?” Agravius said quickly, and bent his head down, scrawling the words Andromeda had suggested on the paper with his shoulder hitched nearly up to his ears.

* * *

_ Step One: Do not, under any circumstances, adopt a Dragonborn. You will live to regret it. _

_ Step Two: If you’re a moron like me and fully intend to ignore Step One, by all means, attend an Empire-Sanctioned court session. You’ll likely find her there. _

* * *

_ 4E 174 _

Nearly a full thirty-two years ago, Agravius Tullius,  _ very  _ newly appointed General and feeling  _ very _ out of his depth about it, sat stiffly in one of the high chairs as the court waited for the last Dark Brotherhood Assassin’s arrival. 

He did not speak to the Captains, Legate, and other Generals around him, unsure of his stance in their eyes just yet, and pointedly avoided the pointed glare of Commander Tharn, one of his superiors who had been  _ staunchly _ against his promotion, citing he was  _ too young _ and his success was a fluke—that he would be the least competent candidate from age alone. Agravius suppressed a twitch in his brows from that—young as he may be, age didn’t amount to much when it was he, at twenty-two, who’d led almost all of the late General Kamata’s troops up and out of the scuffle with a large Thalmor force near the border of Hammerfell. He’d led them to a hard-won victory and all the way back to the Imperial City and been rewarded, rightfully so, with the victory and Kamata’s previous title for his exemplary service. 

Of course, the success hadn’t amounted to  _ too _ much, since days later, the Dominion laid siege to the Imperial City. That had been quite the debacle and an altogether embarrassment, to the degree that not even the victory from the Battle of the Red Ring could soften it in full. They were still struggling even now, and Agravius sometimes worried that...

...Nevermind. Imperial losses aside, his age didn’t mean that he didn’t command respect for his actions. Youngest General, sure, but the least competent? Not by a long shot. He kept his ears tuned to his immediate vicinity, not ignorant to the stares he was receiving. The room  _ seemed _ silent, but he knew better—the Generals, the Captains, and the Legates all knew how to speak almost silently. He could see multiple exchanges going on around him—one was, funnily enough, about lunch plans after this—and relaxed minutely when he realized that none were  _ really _ about him. 

The door to the courtroom banged open, and Agravius suppressed a startled jump, snapping to attention. 

A spritely man walked inside stiffly, and bellowed into the courtroom, “His Imperial Majesty, Emperor of Cyrodiil, Titus Mede II!”

Ah. So, it was time, then. 

The Emperor swept into the room shortly thereafter, fine robes billowing behind him in the picture of grace and poise, and his presence commanded silence, true silence, as he made his way to his throne and sat, regal and unmoving. Respect rose up in Agravius’ chest but he stamped down the feeling just enough to prevent it from rising to his face. Professionalism was key. 

There was a brief interim between the Emperor’s arrival and the accused’s, in which the Emperor made a brief speech that Agravius almost completely ignored, knowing it was just a perfunctory greeting and reminder of the case of trial here. Agravius already knew the details; Commander Maro’s troops had been laying waste to the network of the Dark Brotherhood and had marched a small, highly-skilled platoon of the Penitus Oculatus to surprise and cut down the very heart of the so-called organization. It had been a stronghold near Falkreath in Skyrim and the last known base of operations, suspected to hold at  _ least  _ thirty to forty highly-trained assassins, and yet, they’d arrived on scene to see a lone assassin facing down the burning stronghold. 

As far as he could tell, the details were hazy from here, but he knew this much; it was strongly suspected that the assassin in question was the last remaining member...and that the burning of the last Brotherhood stronghold had been his or her doing. What the court was here to do was determine the reasoning behind the deed and an appropriate punishment, if any, for the last assassin. Agravius had a pretty firm opinion—the only good assassin was a dead one, and even if they’d deliberately killed all their allies, the good act only belied the depravity of their mind and the threat they posed as an individual. All he wanted to do was use them to find out whether or not they really  _ were  _ the last of the Brotherhood, and then put them into the grave they belonged in. 

And then, the accused was brought into the courtroom. 

Agravius did not easily waver. He was a firm man, and a staunch believer in himself and his own judgement. It was a very rare occasion that he ever retracted previous beliefs, and it took nothing short of a ludicrous circumstance, a qualifiable absurdity, to cause such a happenstance. 

And though he didn’t know it, not right away, this was a ludicrous circumstance, a qualifiable absurdity, and more than enough to mark this day as one of those very, very rare occasions. 

Because in the middle of the room stood a shackled, rather bedraggled little girl. 

“Here she is,” Commander Maro’s voice boomed through the courtroom. “I present to you, the last standing member of the Dark Brotherhood and  _ acclaimed  _ slayer of the final stronghold.”

The silence in the room was almost deafening.

Agravius was almost  _ positive _ he was joking. He waited for the punchline, and expected to hear a sharp reprimanding for the inappropriateness of this to be directed at Maro. And yet, the ringing silence in the courtroom continued. No one moved. Agravius looked around, and saw everyone looking amongst themselves, and for perhaps the first time, he picked up on a vague note of nervousness in his superiors. 

_ ‘You are absolutely shitting me.’ _

“You presume to tell me that the last remaining member of the Dark Brotherhood....is a little girl?” Not even the endless poise of the Emperor could fully mask the disbelief in his tone. 

“It  _ is _ her,” Commander Maro said unkindly, shoving the girl forward. Agravius could see her wince from here, and his wrist twitched. 

That was  _ not _ an assassin.  _ That _ was a little girl. 

And it seemed he was not alone in this mindset—as if the shove Maro had rudely bestowed upon the child was a catalyst, the room erupted. Some people were dithering, demanding an explanation for the joke, still believing it to be so. Others seemed annoyed, and were complaining about their time being wasted over such a little thing. Some were complaining about Maro’s treatment of the little girl—these were the only people Agravius was inclined to agree with. 

And _ then, _ there were some scattered about who, Gods help him, were just saying to  _ ‘kill the little wretch and be done with it if you’re so bothered, Maro. We didn’t need a trial for this.’ _

Agravius didn’t contribute. He just looked around the room, calmness shifting into a stunned sort of disbelief.  _ Kill _ her? That little child standing in the middle of the room? Kill  _ her?  _ Agravius very much understood the objective benefit, and didn’t often let emotion cloud his judgement, but  _ honestly!  _ That was—assassin or  _ not,  _ that was a  _ little girl! _ What was  _ wrong _ with these people?

The announcer bellowed for order in the court and Agravius straightened ever so slightly, keeping a nervous eye out as the room quieted, waiting. He looked to the Emperor, who had the bridge of his nose pressed between his fingers in a surprisingly visible show of exasperation. 

“Commander Maro, please, what is the meaning of this?”

Commander Maro looked over the girl with a look of such thinly-veiled derision that Agravius’s hackles rose ever so slightly. “Believe me, your Majesty, if I could have avoided this and done away with her by now, I would have. However, several recruits  _ insisted _ she get a fair trial due to her... _ presumed _ actions.” He threw a nasty look backwards, and Agravius was dully surprised to see members of the Penitus Oculatus absolutely glowering at the man.

Huh.

“And what were these  _ presumed _ actions?”

He looked over the little girl as she stood there, taking stock of what he saw. She was...he couldn’t tell. Either a moderately light-skinned Redguard, or a particularly dark-skinned Imperial. Perhaps even a mix of both. Her hair certainly looked Imperial, not at all the kinky, thick yet delicate texture of a Redguard, but something about her eyes, her lips, they did indeed denote the latter race.  _ ‘Half-breed, then.’  _

Commander Maro went to speak again, but suddenly, in a bold move, a member of the Penitus Oculatus stepped forward and said quickly, loudly, “Your Majesty, please. Allow me to—”

“Lieutenant Tarquan, you are out of  _ line.”  _ Commander Maro said frostily.

“I don’t believe I am,  _ sir.”  _ Tarquan said back, just as daring, and Agravius’s eyes widened. 

Oh, Lieutenant Tarquan was playing a very dangerous game, here. Murmurs broke out through the room as Maro’s face reddened. 

“I am  _ ordering _ you to—”

“Maro, that’s enough.” The Emperor said suddenly, tone unwavering. “If Lieutenant Tarquan felt whatever she has to say is more important than your authority, I am quite curious to see what it is.” And then, he swept his hand forward and said firmly, but not fully unkindly, “If you please, Lieutenant Tarquan. For both our sakes, I hope it’s worth my time.”

Agravius quickly looked back to the child standing in the middle of the room as Tarquan seemed to gather herself, analyzing the specimen in the middle of the room. The girl’s race wasn’t altogether important, he thought. Her stance and her appearance were other things entirely, and seemed more relevant. She looked, as he thought before, rather bedraggled; her hair was unkempt and didn’t look cut even, there was a gash on her lip and more riddled down her arms and legs, and if he wasn’t mistaken, her palms had the shiny look of burnt flesh. She wasn’t entirely dirt-covered but did look like she’d taken a tumble, and her knees were shredded, only half covered by the scratchy-looking, hole-covered smock she was dressed in. 

And yet. Her stance did not match that of a harassed prisoner, not at all. Here she was, standing in a courtroom full of people either annoyed by her existence or wanting it snuffed out, disheveled and alone. For all rights and purposes, she should look scared stiff. But she didn’t. 

Or, he amended, she was doing a  _ very _ admirably good job of hiding it. Her face did not waver and her shoulders were in a hard line, but there was the slightest, minute shake to her knees. His chest panged oddly.  _ ‘What a tough little thing.’  _ He thought, grudgingly approving.  _ ‘She’d be a good fighter.’ _

And then, as if feeling his stare, she turned slightly and locked eyes with him. 

_ Oh.  _

Lieutenant Tarquan cleared her throat, looking ruffled, and began to speak. “Very well, thank you, your Majesty. On the 25th of Midyear, part of my squadron branched off with Commander Maro to launch a surprise attack on the last known hideout of the Dark Brotherhood in hopes of overwhelming them and preventing any escape. However, when we arrived on scene, we found the stronghold already up in flames, with only this girl,” She gestured to the accused, “standing outside of the wreckage. We initially presumed her to be one of their attempted victims, however, we noticed quickly that she wore the garb of the dark clan. She told us directly that she was one of them, but had chosen to leave them and—and take care of them, so that they may not terrorize the empire any longer, by lighting the stronghold aflame and locking all members inside.”

“And was there proof of her claims?”

Commander Maro went to speak, but Lieutenant Tarquan continued, speaking over him and never once faltering. “Yes, your Majesty. On scene, she smelled strongly of flammable oil and magicka, had severe burns on the palms of her hand, indicating prolonged use of pyromancy, expressed magical exhaustion through her lethargic motions and blooded—blooded orifices. She was covered in soot, and seemed to have trouble breathing, indicating an excess amount of smoke inhalation. Furthermore, when we investigated the wreckage of the stronghold, we found around fifty bodies, all emblazoned in the garb of the Brotherhood.” 

Fifty? That was ten more than the higher-end of the estimate.

“And you’re sure they were the bodies of the assassins? Not just nameless victims dressed in the clothing?”

Lieutenant Tarquan stammered here and Agravius suppressed a wince. “T-That hasn’t been  _ fully _ confirmed, yet, but recent evidence suggests it and—and—any activity from the Dark Brotherhood has been at a complete standstill since the night we marched on the burning stronghold.”

“And you mentioned this was near the end of Midyear?”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“And you acknowledge that we’re hardly two weeks into Sun’s Height?”

“Y—Yes, your Majesty.”

“Do you deny that there is still a possibility of Dark Brotherhood activity that has not yet been reported?”

“No, your Majesty.” Tarquan said, looking faintly nervous, but she seemed to remember something and her shoulders straightened. “However, we  _ have _ been investigating extensively following the events of the 25th of Midyear, keeping rapt attention on  _ all _ criminal activity in the nearby vicinity of the stronghold, and there has been  _ no _ evidence to suggest any activity despite the vague possibility, and, furthermore, as of the 3rd of Sun’s Height, we have officially confirmed several weapons found on the persons of the corpses in the stronghold to have belonged to several influential members of the Dark Brotherhood.” She sucked in a fortifying breath and then said, firmly, as she reached into her weapon sheath and drew out a hauntingly legendary dagger, holding it up for all to see. “Trick or not, I don’t believe Astrid, the leader, would have willfully parted with the Blade of Woe.”

Stunned silence rippled through the courtroom then, and as Agravius held the girl assassin’s gaze, Agravius became certain of three things.

One, that the Dark Brotherhood was well and truly gone.

Two, that the girl assassin before him was  _ terrified. _

And three.

That he would stop at nothing to get her out of this.

She was just a girl. 

_ “Lieutenant Tarquan!”  _ Maro bellowed suddenly, lurching forward. “You will sheathe that weapon in the courtroom at  _ once!” _

“She’s not using it, and it’s evidence. Why would she?” 

It took Agravius a moment to realize who had spoken. 

It was the girl assassin, and she was looking at Maro with such a look of poison that Agravius himself nearly shuddered. Oh, boy. 

“The accused will not speak unless addressed.” Maro said icily. 

“The accused  _ will _ speak if you’re barring evidence out of your stupid pride.” The girl continued, speaking with authority you’d never expect a child to possess. “That was Astrid’s weapon—”

Maro came stalking towards her. The girl did not hesitate. 

“ —I won it off of her. It’s mine, and it’s—”

_ “Silence!”  _

“It’s  _ evidence _ of my victory, and Tarquan  _ will _ show it whether you  _ like it or not!  _ I’ll not stand here and wait for you to kill me without having said my piece!” 

The Emperor cleared his throat, and it seemed even the girl assassin knew to silence herself here, because she closed her mouth and did not say another word. Agravius watched the Emperor level his gaze on the girl, unreadable and unyielding. “Well. I suppose that  _ does _ make things rather clear. Daring little thing, since you’re  _ also _ so inclined to speak out of turn, may I have your name?”

“You seem very inclined to listen to people speaking out of turn,” The girl assassin said brittly and Agravius stiffened.  _ Wow,  _ this girl had guts. 

He expected the Emperor to become angry with her, but to Agravius’s surprise, he only seemed tired, if not, faintly amused. “This is a court case unlike any other, dear girl. Again, may I have your name?”

Agravius watched the girl swallow, and then she said firmly, “You may not  _ have _ my name, but you may know it. I am called Andromeda—” And then she paused, looking askance, and tacked on, ”Y-Your Majesty.” 

“So you  _ do _ remember your manners, dear Andromeda.” The Emperor commented, leaning forward in his throne. “Do you deny that you were an assassin?”

The alleged Andromeda shook her head. “No, your Majesty.”

“And you understand the standard punishment for assassins, don’t you?”

Agravius’s heart sunk. 

Andromeda’s shoulders tensed, and after a beat of silence, she said, quieter than before but without a shake in her tone, “Yes, your Majesty.”

The courtroom was dead silent, and all of the authorities there did not even look amongst themselves. Agravius watched the Emperor hold Andromeda’s firm gaze for a long, long while, nerves buzzing. Commander Maro looked triumphant from behind Andromeda, Tarquan looked devastated, and Andromeda looked...

She looked resigned. 

The Emperor sighed, then, and opened his mouth to speak. But before he could get a single syllable out, in a quick, snap decision, and in the most stupidly brave action he’d ever perform, Agravius sprang up from his chair, legs screeching on the floor, and said, 

“Your Majesty,  _ please.” _

Every eye in the courtroom  _ snapped _ to him and Agravius swallowed, breathing out hard, and began to speak quickly, not giving anyone a moment to interrupt him. 

“This is a court case, is it not? We were called here to judge the actions and fate of the girl before us, and since that is my purpose here, I will perform it. It is true that Andromeda was an assassin, but not only has she single  _ handedly _ wiped out the last remnants of her terrible organization and thus rid the empire of their blight forevermore, she is also a  _ child.  _ I beg you, take these into consideration before you issue her sentencing, as her age and—and monumental deed must not be ignored.”

Silence followed his piece, and then, the room swelled with hisses and whispers. He felt a flush rise to his cheeks but stood firm, heart pounding wildly.  _ ‘Oh, what the fuck did I just do.’ _

The Emperor did not look angry with him, though. He seemed to consider him for a long while, and then said curtly. “I imagine this case is rather close to your heart, General Tullius.” The Emperor said, and Agravius winced, knowing he’d brought up age and a monumental deed, both of which had given him his own title. “You have severely spoken out of line and interrupted the court…” Agravius bit the inside of his cheek. “...However, the points you made were valid, and what I myself were about to bring forward. I noticed you were the only person in this room not to speak thus far—you’ve observed, which has indicated to me that you’re not a fool. And now, it took a great deal of bravery to stand and speak in the manner by which you did. So, brave, wise man, tell me. What do  _ you _ think is an appropriate punishment for dear Andromeda?”

Agravius sagged slightly, mind whirling. “M-Me?”

“Yes, you.” 

Agravius looked at Maro’s bright red face, and then the girl Andromeda, who was openly gaping at him. He swallowed thickly, and pulled something out of his ass, making it up as he went along. Eyes still on the girl, he said, 

“As—As I watched the girl, I noticed nothing but strength. She has not flinched once, she holds herself like a warrior, and everything she says indicates strength of mind and spirit. And, with her undoubtable training as—as an assassin, I’m sure that she is altogether a good, tactical fighter, and would make for an exemplary soldier in the Imperial Legion.” Whispers and mutterings broke out in the room, and Agravius tacked on quickly. “However, her age and past cannot be ignored, so—so the best punishment I have in mind is this. That, until her age of majority, she shall be rehabilitated into an upstanding member of Imperial society and trained to be a soldier under the guidance of an Imperial authority. And—And upon  _ reaching _ her age of majority, if deemed to be allowed to function in society, she will be outfitted and put in line as an Imperial soldier, your Majesty.” 

Objections rose in the court at once—Commander Tharn and Commander Maro were both the loudest and looking at him with pure vitriol—but Agravius kept his eyes on the Emperor, who rose and considered the court.

“Andromeda, last assassin of the Dark Brotherhood, do you find this to be a fair and just punishment?” He said. 

Andromeda jumped and, looking as though she couldn’t believe her own ears, she nodded hurriedly and said, “Yes, your Majesty.”

“Would you obey the authority of your guardian upon being placed in their care, and act only for the betterment of the Empire?”

“Yes, your Majesty!”

Voices rose in the courtroom, demanding to be heard, and Agravius looked around, eyes wide. 

“Would you swear to stand by the Legion upon your age of majority?”

“Yes, I would, your Majesty!”

“Those in favor of placing Andromeda, last member of the Dark Brotherhood, under the care and guidance of General Agravius Tullius, raise your hand now.”

Agravius froze.  _ ‘I did  _ **_not_ ** _ hear that right.’ _ He swiveled to look around the room, gaping and astonished as  _ easily _ more than half of the hands in the room shot into the air while those who did not raise their hands clamored.  _ ‘Wait, wait, hold on a minute—’ _

“Then, it is settled. I hereby place Andromeda under the care and guidance of General Agravius Tulllius until her age of majority and decree that he shall rehabilitate her into an upstanding member of Imperial society. For the glory of the Empire!”

Agravius’s knees turned to jelly as the responding cry rose up in the room suddenly, drowning out only briefly the cries against him and cursing him and his apparent new ward. 

_ ‘What the fuck just happened.’ _

He barely noticed when Commander Tharn came over and said, voice no better than a snarl, “Agravius, linger after the court is dismissed. The Emperor would like to speak with  _ you,  _ and as would I.”

* * *

And that, my friends, was Day One of General Agravius Tullius being a father, though he had no idea then. 

**Author's Note:**

> Andromeda, internally: Oh fuck the emperor just spoke to me  
> Andromeda: omg omg wtf do I say  
> Andromeda: UHHHHH SAY SOMETHING BALLSY  
> Andromeda, outloud: You seem very inclined to listen to people speaking out of turn.  
> Andromeda, internally: **_NOT FUCKING THAT_**


End file.
